


evil is a relay sport

by akasakaashi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bipolar Bokuto Koutarou, Bipolar Disorder, Bottom Bokuto Koutarou, Childhood Friends, Cultural inaccuracies, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, Getting Back Together, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Praise Kink, Trans Akaashi Keiji, Trans Male Character, best friends to enemies to lovers, lockdown - Freeform, mentioned kuroken, sorta - Freeform, this is just very inaccurate dont judge me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29012397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akasakaashi/pseuds/akasakaashi
Summary: Bokuto cleared his throat before speaking, his voice still quivered, coming out as a murmur, “We’re moving to Osaka at the end of the month,” he breathed in, feeling like he wouldn’t be able to hold the tears if he let the air out, “My mum said I can come see you when I’m older”.But he doesn't. Bokuto never shows up and Akaashi feels so hurt he starts to resent him. And then they were roommates locked together during a pandemic.*repost
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	1. i resent you for being raised right

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't judge me, I'm not coping with lockdown, thanks. I apologise beforehand for all the inaccuracies but who cares, really. Title comes from Fiona Apple's Relay, as well as the chapter names.

Bokuto and Akaashi had quickly found each other as kids in elementary school. Bokuto was a year older than Akaashi but they managed to run into each other an impressive amount of times during the day, which made it seem as if they were destined to be. Akaashi wasn’t so sure about it, he was a shy kid with one or two friends he stuck around permanently, and Bokuto was noticeably more social than him. Bokuto was loud and energetic and Akaashi, in contrast, was quiet and didn't play much during breaks.

Later, they figured out the reason they kept running into each other even outside of school was because they were neighbors and so their friendship became official. Slowly but surely, the time they spent together at school increased and a year after they’d officially introduced themselves to one another, they spent every break together. Akaashi fed Bokuto half of his bento and Bokuto did the same with his, always sharing as much as they could to make the other happy. Their parents liked their friendship too, because they were both only children and it seemingly was teaching them a lot about sharing and caring.

When Bokuto joined the volleyball club, Akaashi did too. Bokuto was clumsy but his main goal was becoming the best player and he made sure to practice as much as he could, even though they were kids. Bokuto was so serious about it, Akaashi was nervous to back down when he found out it wasn’t as easy as he’d thought. Therefore, he became as interested in volleyball as Bokuto was and they quickly turned into an iconic part of the team together, despite Akaashi being way shorter than Bokuto. 

“I want to become the best spiker in Japan!” Bokuto often said with the biggest, brightest smile. His fringe stuck to his sweaty forehead and Akaashi ran his fingers through it, moving it to the sides of Bokuto’s face. Akaashi agreed, he would make sure he would make the perfect tosses for Bokuto when they went Pro together. “Will you promise we’ll do it together?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi nodded. Nothing could separate them. 

At age 11, Bokuto started feeling butterflies in his stomach every time he was in Akaashi’s personal space, the space only he was allowed to invade. He was proud of Akaashi, his amazing best friend who was an amazing setter, so incredibly intelligent and really fun to be around. Plus, he was into books which made it even easier for him to show him off. 

Akaashi had the prettiest eyes and blush, and on his birthday, after attempting to bake him a cake, Bokuto decided to ask the most important question he could think of as a 12 year-old. “Can I be your first kiss?” 

Akaashi smiled gleefully and then his expression changed to one of confusion, “Aren’t you supposed to do that with girls?” he inquired, curiously. Bokuto knew exactly what he meant, but he also knew that wasn’t true.

“It’s common, but you can kiss whoever you want. Do you want to kiss me?” he asked confidently, yet respectfully. They were close, but he understood if Akaashi wasn’t curious about that just yet, though he doubted it. Akaashi was the kind of person who didn’t share such thoughts and Bokuto was not ashamed to talk to him about every single thing that crossed his mind.

“I think it would be nice for you to be it. My first kiss,” Akaashi replied, shyly. Bokuto considered it. Yes, Akaashi was definitely the right person to do this with. They knew each other so well it wouldn’t be embarrassing if they didn’t know how to do it correctly. 

He scooted closer to Akaashi, his now usually gelled up hair catching in Akaashi’s long curls as he slowly breathed in and out to slow his heart rate. He felt like his head was going to explode if they didn’t do it quickly. Akaashi was shaking next to him, eyes closed, waiting for Bokuto to make the move, knowing Bokuto would comply. 

“Happy birthday, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto whispered leaning in. All the courage he’d built up left his body and he felt both cold and hot at the same time when he felt Akaashi’s breath on his face. He was so impossibly red. 

It lasted approximately 1.5 seconds according to Bokuto’s brain. Akaashi’s lips were sweet and sticky because of the copious amounts of whipped cream Bokuto had used on his birthday cake. He smiled, proud of himself after they separated, even though it had been nothing but a quick peck. 

“Thank you, Bokuto-san”.

Half a year later, Akaashi started middle school at Bokuto’s school. They were excited they could wear matching volleyball jerseys together again.

A few weeks before Akaashi’s 12th birthday, Bokuto found himself crying outside of Akaashi’s house, holding a volleyball in his hands. They had been practicing together with the entire team only a couple of hours before. Bokuto couldn’t tell why, but he hadn’t been feeling himself during practice and the unsettling feeling only got worse once he got home. There, his mother and father sat waiting for him at the dinner table and informed him they would be moving cities. 

Bokuto cried and cried and cried until he remembered he had to tell Akaashi. 

Akaashi noticed his puffy face and red rimmed eyes as soon as Bokuto stepped in and took his shoes off. He didn’t ask what happened until they were alone in Akaashi’s room and Bokuto had some tea to sip on after Akaashi’s mum had so kindly offered him as much food as she had available to make the teenager stop pouting. 

Though Bokuto cleared his throat before speaking, his voice still quivered, coming out as a murmur, “We’re moving to Osaka at the end of the month,” he breathed in, feeling like he wouldn’t be able to hold the tears if he let the air out, “My mum said I can come see you when I’m older”.

Akaashi started in surprise, his own heart breaking the more seconds passed in silence. He couldn’t remember a time where Bokuto wasn’t in his life. 

“I have your birthday present ready but I don’t think I can bake you a cake a week in advance. I’m so sorry ‘Kaashi. I promise I will write as much as I can”. 

But the years passed and Akaashi never got a letter, nor a visit or an explanation and so the feeling of betrayal grew in the pit of his stomach, poisoning each and every new friendship he tried to make. He would compare everyone to Bokuto in his mind and everyone always ended up lacking. 

Bokuto had broken their promise and hadn’t even had the decency to try to reach out to him. Was he that easy to forget? Akaashi couldn’t stop thinking about him, even at night when he closed his eyes waiting to dream of pleasant things to distract him from the stress he was going through at school, all he saw were Bokuto’s pleading round golden eyes, wet. 

He wondered what Bokuto would look like after almost five years. Akaashi had gotten taller and he wondered if Bokuto was as tall as his father now, or if he had taken to his mum’s height. Akaashi had long strong legs and he was still very much slender, although he ate so much his mother worried there were tapeworms in his stomach. His endocrinologist assured them it was normal from taking testosterone. Akaashi was one of the lucky trans people that only had to go through one puberty. 

He kept playing volleyball because his doctors recommended he kept doing it, although he had started losing his motivation when one of his teammates took Bokuto’s number 4. He kept playing even through high school out of sheer pride, knowing that at least _he_ had kept his promise, because if Bokuto had abandoned him, he must’ve abandoned volleyball as well. He was nothing but a liar, it wouldn’t surprise him.

His team pushed and pushed until they got to nationals in his second year after beating Johzenji. Fukurodani was considered a powerhouse and Akaashi was finally feeling like after all, volleyball had been useful. It had been the only constant in his life and he had grown into himself thanks to being a setter. He liked his team, except he wasn’t close friends with anyone, but they remained friendly through the years. 

Fukurodani’s volleyball club was more than a responsibility for Akaashi, and he wondered if all of his team members felt the same. As the vice captain, he was sure he could place his trust on his teammates’ hands and he expected nothing but absolute commitment to winning as much as he and his captain did. 

He was drenched in sweat, his shorts sticking to his thighs as he left the court to take some air. He needed to pee after holding it for the entire match in fear it would make him late as he often had to wait for every other guy to leave the bathroom before he could use a stall comfortably. After quickly emptying his bladder, he washed his hands and stared into his reflection. Another win for Fukurodani. He was definitely proud of their team.

“Move, Kindaichi, I need to piss before the match,” someone said dramatically outside the bathroom, and Akaashi made sure to wet his messy curls before leaving the bathroom in a rush. He hated public bathrooms although he knew he was relatively safe.

Before he could successfully leave the bathroom, attempting to dry his hands on his shorts already wet from sweat, his vision exploded in white and he felt a deep sudden pain overcome his entire body as the door hit his forehead with force. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” the same guy asked, kneeling next to him. He opened his eyes with some effort and stood up as soon as he got his balance back.

And there he was, fucking Bokuto Koutarou sporting a black jersey with a huge “4”. Akaashi blushed a deep crimson and stared in shock. He stood up quickly, not saying a word and sprinted towards the court again, hoping Bokuto hadn’t noticed him and stopped when he realised other teams were playing now.

So the big lying piece of shit had also made it to nationals. 

He sat on the first bench he found, trying to breathe. At first, he thought he was panicking, but then he realised he was angry. Akaashi was **furious** , so much so he felt like punching Bokuto’s stupid grin off his face. He was now taller and way more muscular than Akaashi and though his hair still stood in the way Bokuto preferred, it was now mostly white with grey and black streaks in between. He felt lacking in comparison to him. 

Of fucking course if they won the next round they were playing each other. He was doomed. 

When he stepped on the court for their game, after having heard Bokuto’s big “Hey, hey, hey!” claiming victory, his legs were shaking. He wasn’t going to lose to fucking Bokuto Koutarou, no matter how distracted his figure made him. Akaashi had never hated anyone so much in his entire life, not even Bokuto’s parents from taking him away from him a week before his birthday. 

Ten minutes into the match, Taku apologised for a bad receive, yelling “Sorry Akaashi” which prompted a loud yell from Bokuto,“Kaashi?!” he exclaimed in shock and Akaashi felt his soul leave his body right then and there. He responded, “careful, Bokuto-san,” before scoring a point with a setter dump. 

He hadn’t expected to be the number one reason the opposing team’s ace’s brain would short-circuit, but he was. Bokuto didn’t recover after that, instead becoming clumsy and staring into Akaashi’s figure during the entire match trying to make eye contact. His team tried to encourage him to score a few points despite him failing attempt after attempt and Akaashi had to laugh. _Pathetic._

He didn’t shake Bokuto’s hand after beating his team and didn’t look back despite feeling Bokuto’s stare heavily set on the name and number on his back. Akaashi had changed the number. 

Akaashi wondered if Bokuto still wanted to become a pro player and scoffed. Had he ruined Bokuto’s career as a potential pro player? After all, it was his last year to show off before having to choose if he went to university. He didn’t feel a hint of guilt. 

Bokuto and his team left quickly after the rest of the matches finished. He had no reason to be there, but he searched for Akaashi’s face and jersey in the crowd. He was nowhere to be found, not even in close proximity to his teammates. He waited until the gymnasium emptied fully, checked the bathrooms and every place in the building he could before being dragged away by his teammates. 


	2. i resent you for being tall

Bokuto felt like crying for the third time in the day. First of all, he was so sweaty and smelly all he wanted was a cold shower, even though it was quite cold outside. His face and neck were red out of exhaustion and windburn. Second, even though he was just moving into his new dorm, he had spent the entire morning at volleyball practice, planning drills with the captain and the coach for the newbies. He hadn’t made it right into Pro volleyball after school, which was expected after being defeated by Fukurodani because of him. Or rather, because of fucking Akaashi Keiji. Third, he was powering through one of his slumps, feeling complete exhaustion settle heavily on his bones as he asked for one more ball to spike despite his head asking him to stop repeatedly. And lastly, because after finally becoming best friends with his roommate, a tall guy with wild hair and a stupid permanent grin who shared his same interests, he’d been assigned a new roomie. 

It was only fair, since Kuroo’s boyfriend was starting his first year of university in Tokyo as well and they were moving together. Bokuto liked them so much he’d considered asking to move in with them, but after some consideration he realised he was overstepping. He’d be cool as long as his roomie was tolerable. 

He was sad, actually, but he had a hard time dealing with sadness, even more so since he’d started taking medication to help with his episodes. Bokuto’s exuberant energy throughout middle school had been attributed to puberty, but once the hormones stopped messing with him, the ups and downs became harder to deal with, even becoming an obstacle for his volleyball practices. Bokuto had been diagnosed as bipolar at the age of 15 and was taking multiple medications since then to help manage it. 

Despite psychiatrists claiming the medication would stabilise him, they didn’t make his episodes completely disappear. He was grateful for at least not having to deal with his disorder by himself anymore, though. 

The truth was, besides having to make friends with a new roomie and having to move to a different dorm, he wasn’t so sure about what he was doing with his life. He was a regular on the volleyball team but he felt like when he left university he would have no choice but get a stupid job his major would leave him no choice but to accept. He wanted to become a pro player so bad and he knew with a little patience he’d be there. He’d just been waiting for such a long time to be scouted and he had only had a few words with dubious characters his coach didn’t approve of completely. He was probably getting worked up over nothing, like his therapist had said. 

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the doorbell ringing. It was probably his new roommate. Bokuto felt slightly guilty for not having reached out before to introduce himself or even check who he was, but he’d been told it would most likely be a freshman he wouldn’t want to deal with. Still, Bokuto wanted to be a nice senpai.

The doorbell rang again and Bokuto wondered if he should pretend he’d been too busy to open the door on the first ring. He was so sweaty and flushed he knew he’d only get more red once he opened the door in such condition. Well, he was doomed to spend his days sweaty and flushed if he truly was to become a professional player. 

He jogged towards the door, hoping the guy wouldn’t ring again, and with sticky hands he opened the door. His breath caught and he choked on his spit as soon as the guy walked in, with the blandest expression a human was capable of wearing. 

“You?!” his new roommate screeched even before stepping in, making the rest of the students pestering the hallway in their floor stare. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto barely whispered, feeling all the colour drain from his face. 

“Excuse me,” he murmured in a small voice letting himself in by slightly pushing Bokuto away from the doorway. After a few minutes of complete silence and feeling Bokuto’s heavy stare on him, Akaashi spoke up, “I will be asking for a replacement or moving to another room”. 

Bokuto felt like he wasn’t capable of mustering a word or even breathing. He couldn’t feel his hands and still found himself holding the door open, as if waiting for it to be a hallucination. Surely, he was seeing things, his meds had secondary effects and someone like Kuroo would step into the room any moment, right? 

“Huh?” Bokuto replied, still shocked. “What the fuck, Akaashi?” he continued, closing the door and feeling like collapsing onto the floor. He finally sighed and let his body collapse under the weight of it all, sliding against the wall and sitting on the carpeted floor when his legs gave way. 

“Bokuto-san, I don’t plan on staying with you for longer than needed. In fact, I hope I never have to see you again,” he clarified, not even bothering to look at Bokuto’s face. Bokuto was sure he looked pathetic like that. Akaashi looked as composed as ever, with his back straight and a peaceful expression now adorning his face as he unpacked the basics he carried in his backpack. His furniture had already been dropped before Bokuto had had the chance to see his room. His eyes looked mocking. 

“Why the fuck are you so rude to me?” Bokuto asked not knowing if he was upset or if it was plain anger that made him feel like he was burning under Akaashi’s stare. His dark blue eyes found his pathetic figure and with the same indifference as during the last time they’d seen each other, Akaashi hummed deeply. 

“I’m being as civil as possible, Bokuto-san. Please refrain from attempting to make friends with me. I don’t want to talk to you,” he finished.

Bokuto was mortified. He felt so hurt it was as if he’d been shot in the leg and he just couldn’t stand up or move from the pitiful little space he was occupying since the moment he’d seen Akaashi cross the threshold. Slowly, but surely, although shaking, Bokuto reached his bedroom and sat on his bed, letting himself feel his emotions as deeply as ever. He wanted to die. 

Not only had Akaashi become a fucking vengeful asshole for some unknown reason, but he’d also become a massive hottie. Akaashi had always been incredibly pretty and he’d made sure Akaashi knew it when they were kids. He had never seen eyes as deep and calm as his; he carried himself gracefully, always keeping his composure even during a match. He had a particular way of standing with his hands on his hips or behind his back, holding them together as he fiddled with his fingers. He wondered if he still fidgeted with his fingers when he was impatient or anxious. 

As a boy, he’d taken the time to memorise as many details from Akaashi’s personality as he could. He knew all of his little quirks, dislikes and although he’d been difficult to read back then, now it was more than clear Akaashi hated his guts and wanted him dead. Had he really changed that much? 

He noticed how tall he’d gotten, more muscular than the lanky boy he’d been when they’d met. Bokuto was still taller and wider than him, though. He wondered what holding him tight in his arms would feel like, certain he would never get a chance to feel it again.

He decided to confront Akaashi who was just now finishing brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Bokuto stopped in the doorway, trapping Akaashi inside.

“Listen, Akaashi. Can we make this work? I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m glad to see you again. We’re both adults now. Besides, what are you so angry at? You’re the one who ruined my last chance at winning the nationals,” Bokuto blurted out, crossing his arms defensively in front of him. 

Akaashi scoffed and nodded daringly. Bokuto felt his legs quaking. There it was, that fucking stare.

“I RUINED your whatever?! You ruined volleyball for me, you shithead,” Akaashi said almost incredulously. He excused himself and padded towards the kitchen, looking for a glass of water to soothe the headache Bokuto’s sole presence was giving him. 

“Akaashi, I haven’t done anything. You won the match, what else could I have done? I didn’t see you for years before that stupid match. You know, it’s all in the past for me,” he insisted, trying to both make peace between them and defend himself as he followed Akaashi through the common area. His words only seemed to aggravate Akaashi even more.

“FUCK. OFF,” He yelled right on Bokuto’s face, inviting himself into Bokuto’s personal space as if there weren’t years and years separating them. “You didn’t fucking see me for years, you didn’t even fucking call or write or shit,” he continued, poison leaving a bitter flavour in his mouth as he spat out nothing but facts. His head was pulsing, his temperature rising, and he felt like crying despite his angry demeanor. 

Bokuto couldn’t come up with anything, he couldn’t think of any retorts, clever comebacks or even explanations. In fact, Bokuto wasn’t even sure what had happened back then. All he could remember was a terrible sense of dread settling in his numb limbs as he left Tokyo with his parents. What had happened after that? He’d lived in a constant haze of depressive episodes and side-effects his first year in Osaka, barely making it through school, only encouraged by his love of volleyball. 

Akaashi excused himself again politely, bumping into him as he stepped out of the common area. He closed the door to his bedroom behind him and sighed. 

Bokuto stood in panic in the middle of the kitchen and only ten minutes later he managed to write “So sorry Akaashi :-(“ on a slip of paper he ended up sliding under Akaashi’s door. Before retiring to his own bedroom he added in the calmest tone he’d ever used, “I was ill, I’m sorry. I’ve missed you”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> several clarifications: 1. I have no idea how superior education works in Japan 2. all I know from dorms I learnt through fics 3. yes they live in a beautiful world where no one but the dean is a transphobic fuck 4. Akaashi may come off slightly ooc because of plot reasons? sorry about that 5. i am an avid supporter of the trans akaashi agenda


	3. i resent you from having each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to add there's mentions of covid in this chapter and again, i don't mean to come off as disrespectful in any way, i am just tired of being alive thanks. depressive episode warning too, i guess.

Akaashi woke up to the noise of the coffee machine loudly filtering coffee grounds. Akaashi hated coffee, he only drank tea and sometimes indulged on those crappy McDonalds’ drinks that were technically not coffee. It was 5am and he didn’t have class until 9. Yet another reason to kill Bokuto in his sleep.

He’d submitted his replacement request three weeks ago and had yet to receive an actual reply from the dean. He was losing all hope to have a nice first year at university. He’d had to put up a huge fight already only to be assigned to the men’s dorms because the dean thought it would be scandalous to have him share a room with a guy. He’d even had to threaten to sue to get what he wanted and even then all he got was a room with fucking Bokuto Koutarou.

Bokuto left 20 minutes later, on what Akaashi could only assume was his way to the gym and practice. It was obvious in Bokuto’s room, routine and body he was still an avid athlete and his plans to become a pro player were still up. Akaashi had left volleyball after nationals in his second year of high school, prioritising his grades over something he was struggling to find motivation to keep doing. 

Throughout the three weeks they’d had to endure each other’s company, Akaashi hadn’t retreated. He didn’t particularly want to make Bokuto uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to give him peace either for sure. And neither did Bokuto, apparently.

Bokuto’s routine made Akaashi’s blood boil. He was still energetic and loud as ever, making a mess of himself and the kitchen during breakfast. The kitchen was always covered in protein powder, the blender was rarely rinsed after making one of his ridiculous smoothies and Akaashi was starting to consider throwing his shit to the trash. After all, it was what he deserved for waking him up at 5am even on Saturdays. 

Even when he came back from practice he made sure Akaashi had no peace to study or even entertain himself. He occupied as much room as he could in the common area, brought friends over without asking Akaashi and blasted loud rock music when he was in the dormroom. Akaashi could barely tolerate it; therefore he spent most of his time in the library and in cafés when he got too tired of studying. 

The worst of it all was that Akaashi couldn’t find a way to get his revenge. Bokuto had declared a war between them and Akaashi couldn’t attack or defend himself. 

In Bokuto’s defense he had _really_ tried the first couple of days. He made breakfast for both of them, he even shared his smoothies with him and Akaashi left him hanging continuously. He tried apologising twice and Akaashi pretended he couldn’t hear him. He offered to bake him a cake and that’s what made Akaashi lose it. Of course he remembered the fucking cake. 

“Don’t bother, Bokuto-san. I will be leaving in a matter of weeks, mark my words,” he said, almost threateningly.

He couldn’t wait to leave. 

Four hours later he was sitting in a phonology lecture, not really interested in the diagrams of whatever part of the international phonetic chart the professor was failing to explain. He thought it was funny how not even the international chart included the weird annoying noises Bokuto made most of the time. God, he despised him. After three more lectures and five hours in the library, Akaashi went back to the dorm hoping to call it an early night before Bokuto got there. 

However, as soon as he started dreaming, he was woken up by Bokuto’s loud voice.

“Yes, I am taking my meds, I promise,” he sighed on the phone, “I just think that maybe we should up the dose, y’know Yutaro-san?… I know you can’t see me with the big virus scare, but could you maybe send in a new prescription? I need my beauty sleep for volleyball… Thank you, Yutaro-san, you’re so kind”.

The call seemed to end and for a moment the apartment fell silent. Akaashi stayed with his eyes closed. What could’ve changed that made Bokuto need medication? 

The next morning he wasn’t woken by the coffee machine, or Bokuto’s loud humming, or the fire alarm, or Bokuto’s teammates picking him up. Before he had a chance to properly wake up naturally, though, his sleep was interrupted by a phone call from his mother. He picked up quickly, not wanting to worry her knowing they hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Keiji, hi,” His mother’s voice had always been soothing for him. She was a kind woman who’d taught him to keep calm and be patient. Despite all of it, Akaashi wasn’t sure he could keep his composure forever in front of Bokuto. After telling her mother how he liked his classes and classmates, his mother commented, worried, “Did you know a couple of people from Tokyo got the virus? I’m so worried about you, Keiji. Plus, you need your shots, you’re gonna have to go to the hospital all the time. Haven’t you thought of coming back home?” 

Akaashi didn’t want to go home. He loved his parents but the more he grew up, the more overprotective his mother got over his boy finally being an adult, and the weirder his dad got about the effects of testosterone. He felt like he was set on the right path to succeed and he would like to keep it that way, despite Bokuto’s persistence to reappear in his life without his permission.

“Ah, I’m sure it’ll be controlled soon enough, mum. Uni’s safe, I think I’ll stay here if I’m allowed to,” he explained, despite knowing he would only worry his mother. 

He spent a total of twenty minutes speaking to his parents on the phone and only ended the call once he realised he would finally have the time to make breakfast peacefully before getting ready for a linguistics lecture without Bokuto barging in on him to behave like a complete piece of shit. 

Come eight in the morning, Bokuto still hadn’t given signs of being awake yet. Akaashi wondered if it had something to do with the meds he’d mentioned and he couldn’t help but worry if he was okay. There was no way he’d even attempt to talk to Bokuto after he’d shown him he was nothing but a stupid childish asshole. 

Something had to be wrong. 

Akaashi left for his lecture at a quarter to ten, after doing the dishes and making his bed. Bokuto still wasn’t up. 

When he came home, five hours later, Bokuto’s _new_ best friend was there, helping himself to coffee while he made scrambled eggs for a dreadful looking Bokuto. His hair was down and he wore those stupid owl pyjamas. Even years after, Bokuto was still obsessed with freaking owls, how childish of him. 

Kuroo nodded at him and smiled awkwardly, but Bokuto didn’t say a word. He didn’t even move or refer to him. 

After he took his shoes off and left his bag in his bedroom, he padded toward the bathroom to wash his hands. Kuroo was encouraging Bokuto to eat as if he was a baby. He wondered if they were more than best friends until he saw a small figure leave Bokuto’s bedroom and attach himself to Kuroo’s back. 

“All clean and ready,” the shorter guy announced, smiling awkwardly at Bokuto. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower after you eat, Bo?” Kuroo proposed and Bokuto’s expression remained empty as he nodded. Akaashi had never seen him like that. 

He felt like an intruder. He’d often thought Bokuto was the one who had always been invading his space, being loud and obnoxious and big and so strong looking. And there he was, eavesdropping on his roommate’s private conversations. He quickly locked himself in his bedroom after he could hear Kuroo add anything else. 

Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door and he assumed it was Bokuto wanting to interrupt whatever he was focused on. He was wrong. 

Kuroo stood smiling apologetically at Akaashi’s unamused face, “Akaashi-san, can I ask for a favour?”. He wanted to say no just to spite Bokuto and his people, however, he wasn’t a rude person generally speaking. He could only nod in response, “I know whatever you and Bo have going on is temporary and you don't like him. I just… Could you check on him these next few days? Kenma and I are leaving Tokyo for a few weeks until the whole virus thing calms down and as you can clearly see, our guy over there isn’t doing well”. 

“Did he skip practice?” Akaashi asked out of curiosity. He wasn’t a nosy person, but he wanted to have an idea of how bad it was. He hated Bokuto, sure, but he didn’t want him to die. He still had some nice memories of their childhood together. 

“Yes, and three lectures and he’ll be skipping practice this afternoon and tomorrow morning, as well,” he sighed, biting the inside of his mouth considering if asking anything from Akaashi was a good idea given the circumstances. “This is my number,” he said, giving him a slip of paper, “I’ll be in touch with Bo but I’ll need you to keep me updated. He’s a lying liar,” Kuroo added with a grin. 

“Will do” Akaashi agreed loosely, despite Kuroo’s boyfriend threatening aura guarding the bathroom door behind him. In a way, he felt glad Bokuto had managed to find such good friends. 

A couple of hours later he heard Kuroo and the tiny guy say their goodbyes and assumed Bokuto was feeling better. He didn’t make a sound until 8am the next day when he sobbed so loudly even Akaashi could hear him. For a moment, he wondered if he needed help, if he was sick or drowning in tears or whatever Kuroo was worried would happen to him. 

At 9 am, an hour before his next lecture, Akaashi stood in the kitchen sipping from a big cup of green tea. He thought he understood Bokuto’s reasons to sob as he found himself groaning loudly at the last email he’d gotten. 

“Dear students,

Given the current circumstances surrounding the status of COVID-19 in our neighboring countries and the city of Tokyo, we will be suspending all activities. We will shortly inform you of any syllabus changes and the procedure to be followed. You are allowed to leave campus; however, dorms will remain open with severe hygiene measures to assure our students’ safety.

Kind regards,”

Akaashi was never getting out of there.


	4. i resent you presenting your life like a fucking propaganda brochure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note for the cis people reading, when i say dick or junk in reference to akaashi, i don't mean a cis man's dick.

Akaashi was well aware he would be trapped with an apparently sick Bokuto Koutarou and he wondered if he should accept his mother’s proposal and just go home. No, he wouldn’t back down now. The apartment was quiet for the remaining hours of the morning and early day and Akaashi wondered if he should offer his help. After all, maintaining their quarrel through such a situation was very immature of both of them. Akaashi could do better in special circumstances if he really tried.

He didn’t know how to talk to Bokuto, though. It all made him feel like a child and, although they weren’t the most mature people, Akaashi had always been more serious than Bokuto was. Sometimes he thought Bokuto confused kindness with being taken advantage of repeatedly and he pondered if Bokuto was still the person he remembered. Probably not. 

Sighing to himself over a new cup of green tea, he psyched himself up until he built the courage to speak to Bokuto in the most civil way he could. His heart was pounding in his chest when he reached the bedroom room. 

“Bokuto-san,” Silence, “Bokuto-san, will you be staying here? I will go get groceries for the next few weeks,” Akaashi explained. He didn’t want to seem like he cared about Bokuto’s wellbeing all that much, but it was only logical to at least get some food before they were locked together for god knows how long. 

Bokuto mumbled from his bed, knowing it was impossible for Akaashi to hear from the other side of the door. He turned the handle with sweaty hands and nudged the door open with his foot. Bokuto looked nothing like himself. Instead of the usual upbeat, strong and energetic man he found himself confronting every single day for the last three weeks, he now found himself in front of a pale lump covered in blankets and hiding under a hoodie. The only thing Akaashi could catch were his empty eyes as he scrolled down on his phone endlessly. 

“What was that?”

“I’m staying,” Bokuto mumbled again, his mouth still hidden by the hoodie he’d pulled tight around his face. Akaashi nodded in response and left the bedroom to give him some space. Before he could close the door behind him, Bokuto stopped him and requested he left the door ajar. 

* * *

Akaashi was incredibly organised and clean. That was one of the reasons why living with Bokuto was making him crazy. He had a system for everything: his clothes were organised according to category, colour and his preference; his little library was organised by authors in alphabetical order and even his toiletries had a specific order to them in the bathroom. Bokuto was the complete opposite, or so it seemed. He threw his possessions carelessly wherever they fit and made himself at home easily. It made Akaashi want to choke him in his sleep even more. 

As with the rest of his possessions, the groceries were now organised in different cabinets in the kitchen. The snacks were kept next to the frying pans and the waffle maker his mum had given him, because Bokuto didn’t open that cabinet. The fruits were chopped, labelled and thrown in the freezer, as well as most of the veggies and his favourite rice went to his secret stash. Bokuto even ruined rice cooker recipes. 

After being done with the cleaning and organising, he decided he would make lunch for both of them for the first and last time. Bokuto needed the extra help and Akaashi, although still terribly mad at him, wouldn’t have him starve to death.

Quickly and steadily he mixed the ingredients for the yaki udon sauce, not even taking the time to measure them despite his perfectionism, because he’d survived on it during his last year of high school after his mother took up a job offer in a city that was an hour away. He then proceeded to add the full package of frozen noodles to a big pot of boiling water in case his desire to maintain peace at the household lasted for more than a day, rinsed them and put them back in the pot, adding the stir fry and sauce a couple of minutes later. 

For the third time in the day, he decided he was better than his pride and knocked on Bokuto’s bedroom door softly, despite the door being open still. “I call a lockdown truce,” Akaashi spoke, his voice shaking with rage behind his good intentions, “I made lunch. Help yourself,” he continued and turned around to walk directly into his own bedroom holding his bowl. This whole thing would be the death of him.

The yaki udon seemed to genuinely help Bokuto. He heard him eat twice and take a shower afterwards. It was an improvement after seeing him play with the eggs and toast for hours after Kuroo had made them for him. 

Bokuto felt like he was about to lose his mind. He felt incapable of moving on his own without having to mentally prepare for every step he was supposed to take on his way to the bathroom. He was about to piss himself. He missed Kuroo and Kenma with his entire being, used to having people to support him when he hit a depressive episode out of nowhere. 

In a day or two, he’d feel better. He took his medication religiously every morning with his spinach smoothie to make sure these episodes wouldn’t last longer than he could bear. That day he had dry swallowed his meds, though.

And then there was sweet gorgeous Akaashi, taking care of him in his own way, checking in on him and making sure he was still alive behind the wall that separated them. Bokuto felt guilty for hating him, but deep down he knew Akaashi was only being kind upon Kuroo’s request. It made his heart ache and his stomach twist.

The next day, after having the same meal four times, Bokuto felt energised and ready to take on the world once again. He couldn’t go to the gym but he made sure to do some yoga in his bedroom and follow the same routine he always did with Atsumu before practice so his energy levels would remain stable. The world was okay again.

He decided to pay Akaashi’s meal back by making him pancakes for breakfast and once Bokuto came out of the shower, Akaashi had already devoured the pancakes and the smoothie he’d made him, although he’d locked himself in his bedroom again. Maybe they would finally make peace and have the chance to sit down and talk. 

Bokuto genuinely felt like they were progressing in the following days. Akaashi always cooked for both of them and although they didn’t speak, he didn’t leave the common area as soon as Bokuto stepped out of his bedroom with his most gleeful smile. That was until Bokuto decided to watch volleyball matches and gasp in awe several times trying to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying _Kaashi look!!_

“Could you be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to study, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi requested and cleared his throat. He usually was a very patient and polite person but things were different with Bokuto. He had nothing to hide and he had lost almost all respect for him. 

“Sorry, Akaashi. I’ll go get my earphones,” Bokuto replied quickly and apologetically, trying to hold onto whatever small sign of composure was left in the air. 

“You know what? Don’t. Just don’t, I’ll go study somewhere else,” Akaashi sighed, feeling his muscles tense at the sound of Bokuto’s voice. He picked up his textbooks and pens and stood up trying to steady his breath. “And it’s Akaashi- _san,_ ” he emphasised.

Bokuto gasped audibly, offended. He backed down quickly, offering all he could to maintain their truce. He didn’t have it in him to anger Akaashi anymore. “Are you sure?” he prompted tentatively, “Akaashi-san?” Oh, that was it for Bokuto. His heart had been destroyed with a word. “Do you want me to make lunch?” he offered in panic as Akaashi moved to his bedroom silently.

“Don’t ruin anything else, Bokuto-san,” he replied, leaving Bokuto standing there feeling empty and pathetic once again after slamming the door behind him. 

A couple of hours later Akaashi had once again cooked a perfect meal for both of them but made a point to eat in his bedroom to avoid having to interact with Bokuto. He, who had always been so composed, patient and kind, found himself behaving like a monster in front of Bokuto. He wasn’t even sure there was a real reason to be mad at him after all those years. 

“I’m sorry, Akaashi-san,” Bokuto apologised again. He didn’t like having to go there, because he knew Akaashi didn’t give a fuck but he still felt so guilty every time Akaashi pretended to be busy with something else just so he wouldn't bother him, “about everything,” he continued, despite not being sure what he was apologising for. 

“About what? The volleyball thing? The pretending I didn't exist thing? Or being an asshole?” Akaashi prompted viciously in response. Oh, Bokuto sure knew what he was supposed to be apologising for now. 

“All of the above”. 

“You don’t even know what you did, Bokuto-san. It’s funny to finally see how insignificant it was for you,” Akaashi replied over a spoonful of yogurt, standing right in front of Bokuto, “Really, you’re a fucking asshole”. 

“I’m sorry if you felt bad, I swear I didn’t mean to,” Bokuto attempted to defend himself and Akaashi’s calm façade fell at his words.

“If _I_ felt bad? Thanks to you, Bokuto-san, I quit volleyball because I couldn’t bear the idea of having to see your stupid face again. It was hard enough before you showed up and you just had to ruin it, didn’t you? Do you know what it’s like to be a trans guy in sports? You have no fucking idea,” The yogurt was left somewhere Bokuto couldn’t remember but Akaashi was now all over his face, seething with anger.

“And how is that my fault? You fucking won, wasn’t that what you wanted? You won and now I’ve to pretend I care about university for four stupid years because my stupid team lost and no one thinks I’m good enough to make the pro leagues,” Bokuto yelled, as angry as he thought he could be at the angelic figure Akaashi had always been in his life. 

“I fucking wanted to win with you. That’s all I wanted. Fuck you for thinking five years of silence would fix what you did,” Akaashi yelled in the verge of tears, tightening his fists next to his hips like a child having a fit. 

“Then fuck you for not trying either, Akaashi!” Bokuto retorted, his face red. 

“I fucking tried. You were nowhere to be found and then of course I had to see that stupid grin of yours in a fucking volleyball court. Fuck. You,” he screamed, his voice was now raspy and low.

Akaashi lost his composure right then and there. He felt like crying and choking on the pain he’d buried deep inside him for the longest time, feeling like it was incredibly childish of him to hate Bokuto for something he’d done as a teen. He stood there for a minute, trying to calm himself down and breathe normally again, staring intently into Bokuto’s golden eyes as if waiting for something. Suddenly Bokuto was a challenge he had to rise to.

Bokuto grinned, “Fuck me, then”.

In less than a second, Akaashi found himself cupping Bokuto’s face in his right hand, nipping at his jawline and feeling humiliated for succumbing to the pit of confusing emotions he’d been trying to process over the years around Bokuto Koutarou’s betrayal. And there it was, all the pent up anger and love he’d once felt were manifesting in angry kisses and bites and groans and Bokuto kept whispering in his ear _Yes, yes, come on, Akaashi_ , as if they’d been waiting for this to happen to finally declare truce. Their bodies hit the couch in tandem.

“Take off your shirt,” Akaashi ordered and Bokuto followed swiftly under him. He was straddling Bokuto’s thighs, both of them barely fitting in the piece of furniture. He was dizzy with desire and ached for the taste of Bokuto’s tongue. He remembered his chapped lips and the short peck on the lips he’d gotten as a gift years ago and now all he wanted was to kiss and bite back in retaliation. 

Bokuto’s hands reached desperately for Akaashi to pull him towards him, slightly pulling his messy curls as he did so. Their lips locked together, burning hot and seeking vindication for each other’s distress as they sucked on each other’s tongue and bit each other’s lips. Bokuto’s hands stayed on the nape of Akaashi’s neck, gently rubbing the skin there while Akaashi’s own hands found Bokuto’s hard biceps to hold onto. Fuck, Bokuto was buff. It only made him wonder how pretty he’d look begging for cock pinned to the couch. 

Their heated kisses only stopped when Akaashi paused to sit between Bokuto’s thighs. He could feel Bokuto’s dick twitching against his stomach as he continued kissing and biting Bokuto’s neck and pecks. Bokuto was a loud mess, he groaned and moaned and complained as Akaashi went lower and lower, avoiding contact with his dick. Bokuto’s face was red as well as his chest, he was so impatient he felt like he was dying under Akaashi’s lips, but nothing made Akaashi speed up. 

“Hips up” Akaashi commanded a minute later and Bokuto nodded enthusiastically as Akaashi pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his aching cock. Bokuto ached for attention but he stayed quiet, obedient. “Is this okay?” Akaashi asked before touching Bokuto. They were both still visibly angry and upset, it was only logical to check before it escalated even more.

“Yeah, _yes_ ” Bokuto assured him, nodding eagerly as his hips rocked, trying to find any kind of friction against Akaashi’s body. God, he was going to be the death of him. Akaashi nodded in response and wrapped his nimble fingers around Bokuto’s cock, pumping slowly as Bokuto writhed under him. He stared at his red face as he trembled under his touch and genuinely grinned when Bokuto let out a low moan. 

His thumb rubbed the head of Bokuto’s cock when he noticed the precum there and Bokuto genuinely felt like a step from death's door before his rhythm accelerated. He was being held down and bracketed by Akaashi’s strong thighs as he looked down on him, almost humiliating him with his arrogant expression. He kept his hands on Akaashi’s waistband and held tightly, squeezing and scratching the skin the closer he felt to orgasm. He wanted his mouth on Akaashi so fucking bad. 

He could feel Akaashi’s hips moving against his thighs as he pumped him and god, Bokuto was melting at the contact. His orgasm came fast and blindingly, washing over his tense muscles as he coated Akaashi’s hand and t-shirt in come, and he apologised even before catching his breath.

“Can I touch you?”, he asked after recovering, still under Akaashi’s weight. 

Akaashi barely moved to give Bokuto’s hands room to explore. He was so wet Bokuto fucking whimpered when he rain his fingers up his junk through the boxers, “Akaashi, can I suck you off?” he asked with almost pleading eyes, knowing they trusted each other enough to set boundaries, “Can you sit on my face?”, Akaashi mumbled on top of him before stepping off the couch to pull down his clothes. 

Bokuto blushed a deeper red when Akaashi’s strong thighs straddled his face. He choked on his scent alone. 

“I’m sensitive. Just don’t suck it like you would other dicks” Akaashi mentioned, lowering his hips on Bokuto's chest and Bokuto felt dirty at the words. He held Akaashi’s thighs and scratched softly at his lower back and ass before tentatively licking the tip of his dick. Akaashi jolted and his thighs trembled at the velvet soft touch of his tongue. Bokuto wriggled under Akaashi’s body until he found a position he was comfortable in, squeezing the inside of his thighs and feeling the wetness there, too. He was hard again. 

His tongue found a circular pattern and quick rhythm along the tip that didn’t make his jaw hurt and Akaashi seemed to enjoy very much if he said so himself. Akaashi’s hips bucked, almost riding his tongue despite Bokuto’s efforts to keep him still. He swallowed him, lapping along his dick with his tongue without sucking in like Akaashi had told him to until the rhythm of Akaashi’s hips faltered and he pressed on Bokuto’s forehead to let go. 

“Stay here” Akaashi mumbled standing next to him with quivering legs. He looked so hot as he walked towards his bedroom, in nothing but a stupid t-shirt, “Can I fuck you?” Akaashi asked from his bedroom, fumbling to find the strap-on he’d left somewhere in his closet. 

Bokuto squeaked at the question, mouth watering at the image of a completely naked Akaashi holding a black harness with a realistic dildo. If it were up to him, Akaashi could do whatever the fuck he wanted with him. 

“Get some lube”. That was all Bokuto could manage, dignified as he waited for Akaashi to retrieve the lube and a condom, cock flush against his stomach, dripping and twitching at the idea of Akaashi fucking into him. For a moment he wondered if Akaashi was being gentle just to get off and he figured he didn’t care if he was being used only to make Akaashi feel better. He’d still do anything for him. 

Akaashi prepared him with ease, his fingers prodded and fucked into him carefully and slowly, keeping a steady rhythm despite Bokuto’s hips trying to fuck himself on them. He was aching so much to feel full that when Akaashi was inside him he let out a satisfied sigh and melted into the couch. Akaashi was holding his hips up with his knees and his thighs parted next to him with his strong arms. He fucked him slowly, patiently, like Bokuto had always expected he would, and when Bokuto groaned in exasperation he picked up the rhythm, hitting his prostate again and again until Bokuto couldn’t make a coherent sound. He held onto Akaashi’s ribcage and back as he was fucked, thinking if Akaashi could come only from fucking him.

Bokuto came quickly, leaving Akaashi to finish himself off on top of him as they both trembled. The dildo was sitting against the leather of the couch, coated in lube, Bokuto’s come and Akaashi’s wetness. 

Akaashi cleared his throat and stood up, holding the strap on in one hand and retrieving his clothes with the other, “That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you guts anymore”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mm yes unhealthy hate sex, we love it. writing smut makes me cringe a lot so i hope this didn't show how uncomfortable i made myself only for self-indulgence!!!


	5. i resent you for never getting any opposition at all

After the sex, Akaashi became more bearable. He wasn’t as spiteful as before, only a little mean to Bokuto which made him feel much better. Maybe sex hadn’t been the right way to attempt to fix their relationship but at least it had helped some. Within the second week of lockdown, the only argument they’d had had been slightly lighthearted and about being careful with the virus. Both Bokuto and Akaashi had to go to the hospital to pick their meds and shot, correspondingly. 

Although Akaashi promised himself he’d stop finding small excuses to get mad at Bokuto, his energy levels were exceeding without practice and the gym, and Akaashi wasn’t sure if he could make it another day hearing Bokuto cry out in exhaustion as he followed yet another YouTube cardio routine. It was only the beginning to his torture, since Bokuto had ordered gym equipment to keep his body in check. 

During the third week, specifically Monday, Bokuto invited him to follow the routine with him, arguing it’d be good for his mood and Akaashi took it the wrong way. He was just fine, actually. On Tuesday, Bokuto proposed they have a movie night with snacks and beer and, although Akaashi complied, he sat on the opposite corner to Bokuto’s, trying to make as little physical contact as possible and remained silent the whole film. Bokuto talked out of his ass only to make the situation less awkward, only making it worse for himself. 

On Wednesday, Bokuto made banana bread out of sheer boredom and napped on the couch after being unable to find anything else to do. It got dangerous when he had nothing to put his energy in and before the day finished, he’d ordered everything he could think of to find a new hobby to pursue.

Akaashi was quiet, focused on books and studying after being informed online classes would be starting the following week. Bokuto didn’t have the willpower to make himself study when he felt like bursting at the seams for some volleyball practice. 

On Wednesday night, he stayed awake until 6am pretending he wasn’t riding a manic wave. When his head finally hit the pillow he couldn’t sleep and he thought about Akaashi’s pretty face and hands to lull himself to sleep. It only made him horny and upset. 

Bokuto didn’t blame himself for what had happened. He wasn’t sure he actually knew what had led to Akaashi’s top one betrayal, but he knew they’d lost contact after he’d moved to Osaka and missed his 12th birthday. 

On Friday, he received a parcel full of cross stitching materials, including fabric, patterns, needles and thread in the colours of the rainbow. He decided that would be his next occupation until he could play volleyball again. He sucked at it, of course. He was clumsy and pricked his fingers several times. 

Akaashi interrupted his second attempt at cross stitching a little horned owl, seemingly opening up a conversation “I can cross stitch”.

“Akaashi, can you teach me?” Bokuto replied, beaming. Maybe with talented Akaashi’s help he would become an expert at cross stitching. He wondered how Akaashi had no difficulty doing it with his long and slender fingers, when Bokuto had smaller hands than him.

“No”.

On Thursday, Bokuto asked if he wanted to binge watch a drama that was so sad he couldn’t do it alone and Akaashi complied again, telling himself it was just for the sake of company. Throughout the seven episodes they watched, he yearned to reach for Bokuto’s hand but he didn’t budge. 

They spent whatever free time they had left together in the common area, making each other food and pretending not to be friendly before classes started and Akaashi learnt Bokuto had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder when he turned 14 after a terrible year of episodes that had him out of control. He didn’t say anything in return, thinking it had been Bokuto’s peace offering and maybe he wasn’t ready for that just yet. 

Then Monday came and Akaashi was struggling with the weird online platform to work properly as he got ready for class. Bokuto was slumped on the couch in his pyjamas while the professor spoke and if that image wasn’t the perfect contract between them, Akaashi having breakfast looking sharp as ever in his desk, nothing was. They weren’t polar opposites but they were very different people. That was probably the reason why they were made to hate each other. 

After all those years it was still the same: Akaashi was quiet and could focus on his studies without any issues and Bokuto had so much energy he couldn’t sit still. He guessed volleyball was indeed the perfect career for him and for a second he wished he could’ve been there too. 

Online classes were terrible for Bokuto’s mental health. He needed the release of a spike and the burning sensation on his sore muscles and calloused hands, he needed his teammates cheering him on and their company, but most importantly Bokuto needed to talk to someone face to face. Akaashi wouldn’t agree. 

Contrary to Bokuto’s belief, Akaashi was the next person to start a conversation, arguing he needed Bokuto’s help with a phonetics project because his speech patterns were interesting and sometimes he made weird noises. Bokuto agreed to record himself speaking about his freshman year so Akaashi would have plenty of material to work with. 

Bokuto narrated his last year as if he was telling Akaashi all he’d missed, hoping filling the blanks would bring him closer, but it didn’t. Akaashi finished his project, got amazing feedback and went back to ignoring Bokuto.

Akaashi was over it. He couldn’t hate Bokuto anymore, he knew he was a decent person and although he hadn’t had much of an explanation he felt like there was a reason Bokuto’d left. He was still hurt, though. The small seedling that was once deep hate had now grown into a bitterness that was swallowing him whole and hindering his words and behaviour. 

He felt like he’d been waiting for endless days and hours to hear back from Bokuto and the more agonising hours passed, the angrier and lonelier he grew. He’d had other friends throughout school, but no one was quite like Bokuto. Nothing ever made him feel like Bokuto did and he regretted having been unable to stop using him as a point of reference for every one of his relationships. 

When Bokuto failed at cross stitching he decided he would try baking again. As a child he’d been an outstanding baker and Akaashi still remembered that delicious funfetti birthday cake. He’d stopped only because he’d had to move to another city and for the life of him, Bokuto could not remember the year he was 13 years old. 

He’d missed Akaashi and he’d been miserable without him, going from doctor to doctor and barely being able to keep up with his new volleyball team and his classes. He’d tried so many different medications that had only made him feel numb and zombie-like. He felt like he couldn’t even have his own thoughts back then. All he could remember was the pain that had paralised his body constantly and then unleashed so much energy and so many thoughts about Akaashi he couldn’t control them. His parents had been there for him, to support him, but he regretted being away from Akaashi. It felt like something was missing from his life no matter how many new people he met and the only thing he asked for was to be able to see him again.

He had, but by the time they met again, Akaashi’s resentment was bigger than whatever feeling of love they’d shared before. 

When he was done with the second cake he called Akaashi to come and taste it. He pretended to be mad at Bokuto’s yelling but he sat in front him savouring the cake in silence. Akaashi nodded as a sign of approval, almost feeling nostalgic as he did so. 

“It’s a lockdown truce cake, for real this time,” Bokuto announced, proudly, “You already tasted it so you can’t back down,” Bokuto threatened with the brightest smile on his face, holding a forkful of cake and frosting.

“I agree,” Akaashi said, in his incredibly collected and calm way of settling things down. Bokuto felt like he could breathe again. 


	6. i resent you for being so sure

Bokuto’s fragile state of mind simply couldn’t deal with another argument when things seemed to be okay. Akaashi was as close to his old self as he could be with Bokuto. He didn’t expect Akaashi to hug him, console him or help him in any way that wasn’t solely to help him survive, but for the first time during their time as roommates things were calm. 

Akaashi wasn’t ignoring him as much as he had been before, but he wasn’t being friendly either and Bokuto wasn’t sure what to feel or where to stand in regards to whatever their relationship was. He wanted to rekindle their lost friendship badly, but Akaashi seemed to be a weird copy of who he had been when they were kids and Akaashi felt the same way about him. They had changed, but the basis of their personalities were the same. They still had plenty of things in common but it seemed there was a bridge missing between them to allow them to actually reconnect. However, whenever Bokuto tried to make a step toward building the bridge, Akaashi yanked the metaphorical rope holding together the misshaped and rotten pieces of wood. 

One morning, over breakfast —the breakfast Bokuto’d made— Akaashi announced with honesty, “Thank you for breakfast, Bokuto-san, but there’s no need for extra kindness,”.

Bokuto scoffed in response, “If you go on about us not being friends and never becoming friends again, just shut it, Akaashi,” Bokuto rolled his eyes over a mouthful of eggs and felt Akaashi tense in front of him. 

“It’s just the truth. I will be out of here as soon as I can and I hope you can become a pro player and have a nice life I won’t be part of,” he added, speaking with honesty that only his eyes could express. 

“Well, it’s obvious you don’t know me anymore, because if you knew me you would know I’m doing this out of decency and politeness and not because I want to buy your friendship with food,” Bokuto explained and Akaashi recoiled in response,“This is nothing but a lockdown truce, after all”.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Bokuto-san” Akaashi agreed with a small smile. 

Oh, they totally weren’t, because Bokuto was indeed trying to buy Akaashi’s sympathy with courteousness. 

“I’ve missed you and I know you haven’t, but I’m glad to know you’re doing great and you’ve become a total hottie,” Bokuto declared proudly, “You’re mean as shit, though,” he added. 

“It’s because I can barely stand your face, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi assured, smiling proudly as well, “I used to think I missed you, but I just missed the idea of you,” he continued. 

Bokuto swallowed thickly. He was the complete opposite. He’d missed Akaashi and thought there’d be no turning back. He was now risking Akaashi hating him again just to see if maybe he could recover part of what they'd had. Akaashi had been his first love and Bokuto still felt like there were too many unresolved feelings. Akaashi didn’t feel the same, obviously. 

They separated after finishing the meal and cleaning the kitchen, each going into their bedrooms to sit through a couple of lectures. Bokuto’s chest hurt with disappointment. 

Hours later, over dinner, Akaashi started the conversation.

“I’m sorry for being rude, Bokuto-san. What I meant is, I am also sorry for wasting your time. Perhaps we shouldn’t have had sex and I am sorry for being selfish,” He explained, unwavering, “I held onto this grudge for so long I forgot we became different people and you probably had good reasons to leave everyone behind”.

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto murmured in a small voice. Akaashi speaking truthfully and apologising made him feel like a bug about to be crushed under Akaashi’s honesty, “I truly am sorry for how I made you feel and even if we’re different people I would love to stay in your life. Even if for nostalgia’s sake,” Bokuto finished and pressed his lips into a tight line, biting the insides of his mouth as if to make himself shut up, “The sex was okay too,” he blurted out, blushing over the soup.

Akaashi nodded silently as he always did, before replying, “I apologise for being so childish,” Akaashi confessed, piercing stare focusing on Bokuto’s golden eyes, “I’m not sure if we can be friends but I have nice memories of us,” he finished, clearing his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Akaashi,” Bokuto moaned, sighing, elongating the ‘a’ dramatically only like he did with Alaashi’s name. It was so fitting, the way it would just smoothly go over his tongue and throat as if it had belonged there, deep in the pit Bokuto’s stomach and he’d been keeping it there just in case Akaashi came back into his life. 

They did the dishes together and went to sleep at midnight after finishing a film. Luckily for Bokuto, Akaashi didn’t continue the conversation later. 

The next morning, Bokuto woke up beaming with the sunlight shining on his face. He felt a bit twitchy and jittery, but so good. He couldn’t wait to tell Akaashi about the wild dream he’d had about them the night before. 

When Bokuto went for a shower, Akaashi was already on the couch on his laptop, with a cup of green tea next to him. There were no signs of food having been cooked, so he thought of making some rice for them when he finished getting ready.

Once he told Akaashi about real breakfast, Akaashi signaled for him to wait and retrieved a bag of rice. Of course he had a fucking stash of good rice. Bokuto complained under his breath.

“Let me do it, you don’t want to burn it,” Akaashi interrupted Bokuto with a grin. Bokuto’s world stopped when Akaashi¡s hands casually found the small of his back to push him slightly aside so he could take control of the kitchen. His breath hitched before he moved. Akaashi took the bag of rice from his hands and poured it into a bowl to wash it as usual. Bokuto stared at him with big panicked eyes as he stood next to him in the _incredibly_ small kitchen.

“Akaashi, can I kiss you?” he blurted out, not even having thought about it. He got dizzy when the words left his mouth and Akaashi just looked at him for an infinite second. 

Akaashi nodded, he fucking nodded again like Bokuto knew he always did and he leaned in, not breathing. His lips found Akaashi’s beautiful grin mid-air and he felt him smile against him, that fucker. 

Soon enough the rice was abandoned as they struggled to make their way to Bokuto’s bed, careful not to separate their bodies in the way. 

When Bokuto finally opened his eyes again after Akaashi let him go, he swallowed at the image in front of him. Akaashi’s face was red and the cocky grin was still there, _the fucking bastard_. Bokuto’s mouth felt numb and he searched for the words he wanted to say with difficulty. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, fearing Akaashi would be horrified at Bokuto's need for intimacy and leave him there, alone, dealing with all the emotions that were blooming in his chest. Bokuto felt like he needed him.

“It’s more than okay,” Akaashi replied, staring into Bokuto’s eyes. 

“Ok,” Bokuto replied as he pulled Akaashi’s t-shirt and hoodie to remove them. Akaashi’s stomach flexed as he moved to help Bokuto and Bokuto felt his dick go hard against Akaashi’s abs. Bokuto laid on his back impatiently, waiting for Akaashi to finish undressing. He liked the idea of Akaashi completely naked on top of him, but his thoughts were interrupted by Akaashi pulling down his pants and taking off his shirt in quick movements. 

Akaashi positioned himself between Bokuto’s strong thighs again and kissed him until Bokuto forgot time and space existed. This time it felt different, Akaashi’s kisses weren’t angry, there were no bites or teeth clashing. It was warm, sweet and slow, as if Akaashi was trying to drag on the moment forever. He kissed along his jawline, neck and collarbones, dragging his teeth on his skin only to scratch him lightly. 

Bokuto pressed his fingers against Akaashi’s back, scratching along his ribs with his nails as Akaashi continued kissing his naked torso. He tried to kiss him back whenever he caught some skin near his mouth, but all he managed after a few minutes was to hold onto Akaashi’s curls as he continued and Bokuto’s breath hitched repeatedly. He giggled when Akaashi bit softly along his right hip, ticklish. Akaashi smiled back at him as he gripped his cock in his hand and moved back up to catch Bokuto’s lips in a long and wet kiss. 

Akaashi’s hand stayed still as an invitation for Bokuto to fuck into it, and he did, slowly. He reached for Akaashi’s hand so the pressure around him was just right and bucked his hips into it. Akaashi leaned his forehead against Bokuto's , breathing raggedly as he rubbed himself against his thigh.

“Fuck,” Bokuto whispered, closing his eyes and holding onto Akaashi’s ass to press him closer to his body. Akaashi let go of his cock to straddle both his thighs, and took him in his hand again. Akaashi’s wetness dragged against the length of his cock and Akaashi’s fingers, Bokuto bucked harder into his touch.

“Stay still,” Akaashi complained, moving to hook his ankles around Bokuto’s thighs to hold him down. Bokuto let out a whimper at the idea of Akaashi holding him down with the strength of his legs. Was love supposed to feel _anything_ like this? He kissed him again, deep, hot and messy. 

Bokuto smoothed his hand down Akaashi’s abdomen, stopping where his pubic hair started, waiting for Akaashi’s approval before reaching down. Akaashi obliged, rolling his hips up so Bokuto fingers could rub at his dick, giving him some much needed friction. Bokuto reached down to wet his fingers before going back to rubbing him and Akaashi cried out, low and raspy, moving against Bokuto’s fingers and struggling to keep up with the rhythm he’d settled on before. 

“Am I doing this right?” Bokuto asked, unable to read Akaashi’s face now hidden in the crook of his neck. His forearm muscles were starting to cramp, but he couldn’t allow himself to stop, not when Akaashi let out a breathy and broken _yes_ , muffled by Bokuto’s shoulder. Akaashi’s thighs trembled under his own weight, trying to hold himself and Bokuto’s hips and thighs still.

Akaashi twisted his hand, tightening his grip around Bokuto's cock and stroked him faster. Suddenly, Bokuto couldn’t keep up with his kisses, or his hips because his limbs were tingling and his muscles were pulled taut trying to _just. get. there._ Bokuto was a moaning mess, flushed and feeling like putty when Akaashi’s thumb reached for the tip of his cock to collect the precum he’d leaked. He hissed.

Akaashi’s strokes became slow again, languid, and Bokuto wasn’t sure if Akaashi wanted this to last or if he was just fucking with him. Either way, Bokuto still felt on the edge, his left hand leaving Akaashi’s back to grab his ass, pressing him flush against his body. His wrist was going to give out any freaking second now.

Akaashi’s mouth fell open in a broken moan and Bokuto could feel him, unable to keep quiet anymore. It only encouraged Bokuto to get louder, certain they were almost alone in the building. Bokuto’s hips jerked, trying to encourage Akaashi to go faster, harder, something, _anything._ Akaashi’s rhythm didn’t falter, his speed and grip were not random, he was trying to memorise Bokuto’s reactions in a way he hadn’t had the chance to and he was enjoying every little sound that came from Bokuto, despite how absolutely wrecked it made him feel. 

Bokuto mumbled incoherently, choking on his spit and Akaashi picked up the pace. It turned out, Bokuto became a mess when he couldn’t come. His thighs burnt under Akaashi’s weight as he tried to ride his orgasm, shutting his eyes tight and holding Akaashi as close to him as he could. His orgasm washed over his body almost in waves, first releasing the tension in his muscles, then spurting come onto his stomach and Akaashi’s fingers and then rocking his hips and grinding into Akaashi’s fist to get the last bit of sensation of his touch before he was too sensitive. 

Akaashi waited for Bokuto to sigh and his body relaxed under his stare, even as Akaashi wiped his come on his comforter after letting go of his cock. 

“Are you gonna make me come now?” Akaashi asked, all smug and cheeky. God, he was beautiful.

Bokuto licked his lips and freed himself from Akaashi’s hold, rolling them over and trapping his body under his this time. Akaashi smiled at him with heavy eyelids and fully blown pupils, his head resting on the pillow. Bokuto feared that smile would fade any second and give way to the bitterness he wasn’t sure Akaashi’d completely forgotten. 

“I really like your body,” Bokuto stated, his knees next Akaashi’s thighs, “I like your legs, they look so strong even though you don’t play anymore,” he continued, splaying his right hand on Akaashi’s thighs behind him, scratching lightly at the soft skin, his back muscles tensing from the movement and his ass almost pressed flush to Akaashi’s dick, “You’re fucking hot, Akaashi,” he finished, slowly reaching up with his fingers to hold Akaashi’s dick and rub at it carefully, making sure to roll his hips against him as he did so, adding to the friction and the rhythm of his aching wrist.

Akaashi wasn’t like him, he wasn’t as vocal, but not because he was shy, rather, because of his self-composure. He swallowed his moans and bit at his lips and attempted to reach Bokuto’s mouth to pour his groans into. He tried to sit up under him and Bokuto let him move as he pleased, especially if it meant feeling his abs tense under him and his mouth on him. A few minutes later Akaashi came, groaning into Bokuto’s neck and trembling slightly. His body relaxed in Bokuto’s arms. 

“Do you want to keep going? Because I kinda do,” Bokuto asked and Akaashi laughed at him lightheartedly, still trapped under his weight and muscular thighs. 

“Yeah,” Akaashi replied breathlessly, holding Bokuto’s gaze.

“Can I,” Bokuto began, swallowing thickly and pressing his lips in a tight line. He stuttered, almost blushing a deep crimson before continuing, “Can you fuck my mouth?” 

“I’m not sure what you’re asking for,” Akaashi replied, unsure “How? With the strap-on?”.

“Umh, your fingers and your dick. Ride or fuck, whatever you wanna call it” Bokuto explained, “If you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he finished, still blushing and looking smaller than he usually did. 

Akaashi leaned back, resting the weight of his torso on his elbows and considered, looking at Bokuto. He looked so pretty like that, sitting on Akaashi’s thighs with his hard flushed clock bobbing against his stomach. Bokuto was a sight. 

“So that’s it? You want me to fuck your mouth?,” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He was biting his lower lip, trying hard to contain a cocky smile. 

Bokuto nodded earnestly, crawling up Akaashi’s body and reaching his mouth for a kiss before adding, “On my knees? Please?”

“Oh, so you’re telling me you’re kinky,” Akaashi claimed, snickering with his eyes on Bokuto’s. Bokuto puffed in response and pouted slightly. 

“Akaashi,” he complained, making Akaashi smirk. 

“On your knees then,” Akaashi commanded. 

Bokuto followed suit, leaving Akaashi’s warm body to rest his weight on his knees on the carpeted floor. He looked small waiting for Akaashi to sit on the edge of the bed and open his legs for him to find the right position. He then moved closer to him and stroked his hands up his thighs. Akaashi’s smirk only grew larger.

“Hands behind your back” Akaashi ordered and Bokuto gasped audibly, bracing himself, “Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he added. 

Bokuto opened his mouth slightly, not being sure what to do with himself. He his hands were aweaty and itchy behind his back, anxious to hold onto Akaashi’s thighs and hips to press him closer to him. Akaashi's left hand rested on the nape of his neck and he guided him closer to his body. Once Bokuto’s chin was resting on his pubic bone, he pressed his index and middle finger into his parted mouth. He reached into Bokuto’s grey strands of hair with his other hand and ran his fingers through them, holding Bokuto’s head in place gently.

Bokuto took his fingers with ease, maintaining eye contact as he started sucking. His spit coated Akaashi’s fingers as his tongue ran along his soft skin. His fingers were long and Bokuto bobbed his head earnestly, taking the weight of them on his tongue. Akaashi grunted.

“You’re so eager,” Akaashi observed, his eyes switching between Bokuto’s gaze and his mouth, “You look like you were made to have me in your mouth”. 

Bokuto moaned, wanting to close his eyes as he blushed deeper at Akaashi’s praise. He made himself keep his eyes on Akaashi’s heavy stare. He pulled off his fingers, only to add a third one. Bokuto felt arousal wash over his body as Akaashi claimed more space in his mouth. 

“You look so pretty with your mouth full,” he encouraged, pushing his fingers deeper into the warmth of his mouth. Bokuto took them obediently, gagging slightly at the intrusion before Akaashi stopped. He breathed in through his nose and relaxed his throat, swallowing around Akaashi’s fingers a second later, “You’re so good at it. That’s it, baby, open wide”.

Bokuto whined around him when Akaashi pressed down, his tongue flat as he breathed hastily.

“Don’t forget to swallow, baby,” he continued and Bokuto obeyed. He let his teeth dig lightly onto the skin, playfully, and traced the length of them with his tongue when Akaashi removed them only to press in again, slowly. 

Akaashi’s thumb and pinky rested on his chin, smearing spit over it as he moved his fingers in and out of his mouth. Bokuto’s throat burnt slightly at the scratch of Akaashi’s short nails, his jaw ached and his knees hurt with his weight resting fully on them. He let out a long moan, choking on the fingers in his mouth, as he felt precome leaking onto his belly.

“I love the noises you make, you’re amazing,” Akaashi led on and Bokuto followed with another moan at his words. He pulled out his fingers a minute later and Bokuto waited for him to get comfortable and tip his head down.

Bokuto felt dizzy at the gentle touch of Akaashi’s hand on his head, holding him in place as he spread his legs. Bokuto took him in his mouth eagerly and Akaashi hissed a complaint, softly tugging at Bokuto’s hair to remind him to go slow. He tried again, this time working his tongue slowly along the tip, lapping at him and relaxing between Akaashi’s thighs as much as the position allowed him.

Akaashi rocked his hips in encouragement and Bokuto felt giddy at the movement. He let Akaashi take control and ride his tongue, following the shift of his hips as he pushed into him firmly. Akaashi took what he wanted perfectly and _oh so gently_ and Bokuto felt himself coming undone just from hearing him and feeling his hand on the nape of his neck keeping him there, pushing him impossible closer. 

Bokuto clenched his fists behind his back, trying his hardest to be good and keep his hands to himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into his hips and thighs, but he stopped himself, feeling he would only distract Akaashi from coming. 

Akaashi’s moans grew louder and Bokuto got dizzier and dizzier, not being sure if it was from arousal or if it was because he couldn’t keep his breath steady as he brought Akaashi closer and closer. In a snap of his hips, Akaashi came hard, slightly pulling at Bokuto’s hair despite his hips searching for the friction of his velvet soft and hot tongue. Bokuto complied as he could until Akaashi let go and parted his legs after having trapped Bokuto between them the closer he got. 

Bokuto stayed on his knees but allowed himself to run his fingers up Akaashi’s calves and thighs. His wet chin rested on Akaashi’s thigh and they both slowly exhaled as they laughed in unison. 

“Was it good?” Bokuto asked, seeing Akaashi’s laughter now reflecting in his eyes. His fingers ran through Bokuto’s hair, scratching softly at his scalp as an apology, despite never having pulled his hair with force. 

“Yeah, that was good,” Akaashi said, smiling down at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the way i almost died writing this chapter u guys... but i'll die on bokuto koutarou being smitten by akaashi and loving being praised by him! the smut was supposed to be a filler but then huh it got so long and ig i just hope you enjoyed it and yes!! we love asking for consent repeatedly in this house!! and yes they don't know how to talk their feelings out


	7. but i know if i hate you for hating me i would have entered the endless race

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, they also have a proper sit-down to talk things out and there's an epilogue

Bokuto felt like he had finally gotten used to lockdown. On the days he had to pick up his meds at the hospital, he went grocery shopping, and when it was Akaashi’s turn, he took care of fruits and veggies for both of them. Their routines worked perfectly around the common area and they accommodated to each other’s academic and leisure needs to make it worked out. Bokuto couldn’t help but feel a pang on his chest every time Akaashi smiled at him, always keeping his guard up just in case things turned sour again.

He felt like he had so much to tell him, despite having told him the basics already and, not that Akaashi owed him anything, but it would be nice to hear something from him. 

After finally being able to speak to one another with honesty, Bokuto had noticed that despite Akaashi having grown and his personality developing, at the very core he was still his childhood best friend. 

He felt the need to have **the talk** . He wasn’t sure how to approach things, though. He was afraid he was looking too much into it and talking things out would actually ruin what they’d built together during the month and a half they’d spent locked down together. Bokuto didn’t consider himself an anxious person, and his meds usually took the edge off of his discomfort, but Akaashi’s calm demeanor always made it so hard to interrupt whatever train of thought he was lost in. 

Bokuto decided he would sit down with Akaashi the last day of October, right before midterms week. He psyched himself up as usual, convincing himself whatever happened he wouldn’t let it ruin their friendship or his mood. As a last detail, he made Akaashi fluffy pancakes because maybe that would clue him in.

Akaashi noticed. Something in the air was different, and it wasn’t just the smell of pancakes or syrup that made Akaashi’s stomach twist with anxiety. He felt the wave of feelings coming, clashing against his back and pushing him closer towards the dining table where Bokuto waited. 

“I think we have to talk,” Bokuto started, keeping his gaze down, focused on the pancakes he had already started eating. 

Akaashi sat in front of him and cleared his throat before digging in. 

“Ah, I missed you a lot throughout high school,” Bokuto started with a sigh, “I made a ton of friends, I talk a lot and people think that’s fun. I just couldn’t face you after all that. There was so much shame around the subject and you were always so unapologetic about being you. I felt like I was nothing in comparison to you, it would’ve been humiliating to show up at your door and ask to see you after such a long time,” he took a sip of his coffee before continuing, “And it’s not like I forgot you, you know? Shit, I thought about you even when I had my first boyfriend in high school. I just couldn’t get you out of my mind, Akaashi. And I know it doesn’t mean anything because you had no idea I was thinking about you,” Bokuto’s shoulders sagged, eyes still focused intently on his food, “I was in love with you for such a long time”. 

“I missed you too,” Akaashi interrupted, attempting to reassure Bokuto despite not knowing what he was getting to. 

“And then I saw you and looked so different and so good and so happy to win the match and I just thought I had to congratulate you because even though I’d have to work much harder, you had made it. It just blew over my head that you may not remember me the same way I did and I understand,” he finally looked up, holding Akaashi’s stare shyly, “It was a childish mess up and it’s not like we’re mature adults now either, but I missed you and I liked you and I loved you and﹘” he said around a forkful of pancakes, slightly choking at the words and scrunching up his face as he took another sip of coffee, trying to regain his composure, “And I kinda love you again”. 

Bokuto fell silent after that, and Akaashi gave him one of his smiles, those special ones back then he’d only give Bokuto and he couldn’t help but feel at ease.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Akaashi replied, worrying his lower lip on his teeth, “I don’t feel guilty for hating you, but I don’t hate you anymore. I actually like you a lot, Bokuto-san and﹘”. 

“But do you like, _like_ me or do you _like_ me?” Bokuto prompted, interrupting Akaashi. 

“When I saw you at the gymnasium, first of all, you hit me with a door and second, have you seen yourself? I like _like_ you. And please don’t interrupt me again,” he continued, and Bokuto nodded earnestly in response, "You barged into my life without asking for permission and of course it made me angry, but I realised you where what I'd been waiting for a long time. Even if I was so mad at you, I just wanted to yell at you, I wanted to tell you how you made me feel, all the good and bad. I don’t know where we’re gonna go from here but I’m glad we got to do whatever it is we’re doing before this. I’m glad I know you again and you know me again. It kinda feels like home now,” Akaashi finished. 

* * *

Akaashi was the one in need of a cold shower after carrying half his furniture almost alone up to the second floor. Kenma wasn’t much help when it came to strength, but after twenty minutes Kuroo and Bokuto showed up to help. They’d had to find a new place with enough room for the four of them, despite it being only Akaashi and Kenma’s official home. Bokuto would be moving from Tokyo for the first couple of years as part of the team he’d recently joined officially, but he'd be visiting. He’d been scouted in his third year of uni, along with Atsumu, one of his best friends from the university volleyball team. 

“Be quiet,” Kenma scolded Kuroo and Bokuto who were struggling with Kenma’s bed up the stairs and yelling at each other. They didn’t want to leave a bad first impression on the neighbors as the problematic senior year students even though at least one of them would be moving after graduating to accompany Bokuto.

Kuroo, with his fancy job travelling along the country wouldn’t be sticking around either, but maybe come the following year his assignments wouldn’t have him wake up at 3am to catch the train or a plane and he'd be able to live with Kenma permanently again. 

The apartment was a mess, but Akaashi’d dealt with far worse things, like Kuroo and Bokuto’s personalities when they were together. Kenma related, that was what encouraged them to get closer in the first place. 

They were done with the move a couple of days later and before any of them realised, they had to part ways again for god knows how long. Akaashi was trying his best to get an internship at a translation agency and he knew that wouldn’t leave him much time to breathe and Bokuto’s schedule was incredibly busy, but they’d manage. 

They said their goodbyes hugging each other tightly at the train station, Bokuto not wanting to let go until he heard the warning that the doors would be closing. Akaashi felt empty at his departure, as if a part of him was missing again, even after all those years together. 

Five minutes into his walk home he got a phone call from Bokuto. He picked up automatically thinking he’d maybe forgotten something at their place. 

“I miss you already,” Bokuto cried into the phone. Akaashi wondered if he was actually holding in the tears like he was, “You should be setting for me”. 

“I’ve gotten really bad,” Akaashi replied, laughing to himself, feeling the tears well up in his eyes, “Be good and make me proud, I’ll see you at the end of September.”

“Always, baby”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've no idea when midterms are anywhere else sorry?? anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed this piece that genuinely came from my deepest emotions rewatching hq again after the last manga chapter and sheer desperation and anxiety from lockdown and i couldn't sleep until this was finished and posted. i genuinely appreciate any kind of feedback and i hope you guys loved it as much as i did


End file.
